Last night I was thinking of the sort of man I could really love, but he’d be different from anybody I’ve ever met. He’d have to have certain things. He’d wouldn’t necessarily be very handsome, but pleasant looking and with a good figure, and strong. Then he’d have to have some kind of position in the world, or else not care whether he had one or not; if you see what I mean. He’d have to be a leader, not just like everybody else. And dignified, but very posh, with lots of experience, so I’d believe everything he said or thought was right. And every time I looked at him I’d have to get that thrill I sometimes get out of a new man; only with him I’d have to get it over and over every time I looked at him, all my life.